God Slayer
by SneakyWalrus
Summary: More than 2000 years have past and the infamous Dwarf Trollslayer, Gotrek Gurnisson, continues to search for a mighty doom. Accompanying him is Felix Jaeger, an accomplished Human scholar and poet from the Empire. A warp jump on a Lizardman ship goes awry, sending the two heroes and their allies to, hopefully, a mighty Doom! [Warhammer Fantasy/Mass Effect]
1. Chapter 1

Bolts of metal, propelled at amazing speeds, fired through the starry void, some impacting on a great void shield, others cleaving the shield apart and causing great boughs of fire to extend outwards and rapidly pull backwards, extinguished by the sheer cold of the great vacuum. But these shots, while deadly, were a few among the hundreds fired outwards into the stars, each going off into the stars to ruin some poor sentient beings first attempts into space flight.

Two ships hung together in the void, one being a horrific shamble of a machine, with hundreds of weapons sprouting out from every conceivable angle, the main body appearing to be a repurposed, or looted, ship body, combined with the remains of what appeared to be the remnants of a scrapyard. Despite the inclusion of shoddy void barriers, each originally designed to prevent other ships from doing significant damage but now repurposed to prevent atmosphere from leaking out of numerous gaps in the ships armor, some of the pirates had begun sticking their heads out of these 'airlocks', clad in primitive space suits, each desperate to board the ship they were firing upon.

And what a ship they were firing upon!

A great obelisk of a ship, being made from a strange combination of common ship grade metal plating, something seen throughout both the Empire and Alliance, and great chunks of Stone and Obsidian, either launched into space or carved out of many an asteroid found floating in the void, with great carvings detailing many tales of heroism and the both the past and future history of its home world and the universe itself. A multitude of cannons spun on great turrets, each shifting and changing, in an attempt to eliminate the cannon shots that would end the ships life with great bolts of light. Along the spine of the ship, decorated in elaborate golden engraving and covered in Obsidian slabs, a spinal cannon barrel vented itself, preparing to fire another shot at its attacker.

This was but one insignificant fight out of hundreds in the grand space of the Alliance.

For it is the 4th Millennium and piracy rages across Alliance space, with a multitude of Greenskins and Skaven, Men and Elves, Dwarves and Ogres, each acting as pirates searching for riches and raiding those with no defense against their attacks.

But for all their violence, there are forces that act against them.

A great Alliance of the Dwarven Holds, the many Nations of Men, the Noble Houses of the Elves along with the strength of the Great Lizardmen Temples and the Ogre Kingdoms. Even among the Greenskin tribes, some have come to join the great allied Waaagh!, along with those in the East of the World, the great empires of Nippion, Ind and Cathy. But for all the races that have joined, there are those who have refused, such as the Dark Elf Kingdom, who still remain infighting and raiding themselves, following the death of the Witch King centuries ago. Or the great Pirate city-states, hidden in the dark regions of space, outside of the control of the Alliance.

But all of this is inconsequential at this moment, for it is irrelevant to the story at hand.

For during this simple fight, the beginnings of a brand new story had begun, much to its author's annoyance and frustration.

Within the belly of the great Obsidian ship, many a scaled crewman rushed from station to station, each attempting to defend against the pirates.

'Ach, Manling! What is going on!'

A short figure, wrinkled from weathering thousands of years, stepped on to the ships central deck, a towering crimson Mohawk betraying his identity.

Gotrek Gurnisson, the Galaxy's Worst Slayer ever to exist, stepped forward, his massive axe slung over his shoulder, and a nasty look in his one remaining eye. The many bangles of ancient Dwarven gold were clamped around his wrists, each inscribed with art from an older age, and which would not be out of place in the personal hold of the High King of Dwarves, along with a great length of golden chain, which hooked from the Dwarf's nose to his cauliflowered left ear.

His head twisted left and right, his one remaining eye glaring at the numerous Skinks and few Saurus' darting around the CIC, each manning one of the many runic stations that projected a harsh, burnt orange glow beneath each of the keys and from the screens, lighting up the CIC into some hellish scene from a nightmare. The few Saurus that were standing inside the room where clad in thick gear that covered their, admittedly, few weak spots, such as their senses and central bodies. Each of them held a heavily engraved metal staff tipped with a jagged blade, which reminded those either well versed in history, or old enough to remember, of the traditional weapons of the Slann Temple Guard. What wasn't used by the old guard was the heavy cannons that were strapped to the arms of each of the Saurus, with long belts locked into their armor and extending to an ammo drum built into the back of their armor.

A man, clad in common cloths of the age but with few defining historic pieces that identified him, including numerous straps, pockets and patches along with a flowing red cloak, stepped out of the mess, a uniquely shaped sword, almost reminiscent of a dragon headed hilt, strapped to his leg. A set of books dangled together at along his right leg, each linked together by a set of leather straps and bound with old golden clasps. Felix, despite numerous advancements in technology and the widespread adoption of literacy, still copied his thoughts into a set of paperback journals which, thanks to remaining as one of the oldest continuing action series/historical textbooks for both his families publishing company and the many Universities around the world, had afforded him the luxury of doing so.

'Ah Gotrek, we...we think they Orks are going to attempt to board us.'

Felix Jaeger's, one of the oldest men alive, and still maintaining the world's oldest criminal conviction, voice was slightly weak, with a weary tone of acceptance, as if he knew the universe was deliberately going out of its way to ruin his life.

Gotrek smiled viciously, and ran his finger down the long single blade of his Rune Forged Axe, a single red drop forming on his thumb.

'Finally, something to do in this damn tub. Come on then Manling.

Felix winced. He'd have to say this carefully.

"Actually, the Captain is preparing to jump us out of here as soon as we can. He doesn't want the cargo being taken.'

Gotrek scowled.

'Look, we nearly got eaten down there, by those giant worm things. You even got to try your blade against them.'

The scowl deepened further.

'If we jump now, we can secure the treasure, and the Captain will bring us back to hunt down the Pirates.'

Felix was certain he could actually hear Gotrek's teeth grinding.

Luckily enough, the Captain stepped in to save him from having to deal with Gotrek's anger.

A small Skink stepped forward, dressed in a slim bodysuit covering his lower body and chest, decorated with a number of small fetishes and golden rings depicting various religious scenes. Small sets of colourful feathers were jabbed into his orange tinted fin, denoting his seniority as a Captain.

'Yes-yes, we will return, my honor we will. Filthy Greenskin think they can attack us, while carrying a relic of the Old Ones? Yes, we return, we kill all.'

Unfortunately for Felix, nearly a thousand years of continued contact and trade had revealed a few similarities between the Lizardmen and the Dwarves in regards to how they deal with those that attack them, specifically, how they treated Grudges.

And it appeared that Captain Py'qird subscribed to the same philosophy as Gotrek.

As the ship began to wind up its powerful Jump drives, and the various Slink priests began their chanting to ensure safe travel through the peaceful tides back unto the chaotic waves surrounding their home, the pirates continued firing upon it, and thanks to the ever amazing luck of the Orkz, one of their shots hit the tail end of the ships engines, causing the ship to alter its course ever so slightly.

As it is with such tales, and following the traditional luck of both Gotrek and Felix, something went very, _very_ wrong.

* * *

Garrus' face slipped from his claw and landed beak first on the table, jamming a speaker inside his left mandible. His current co-worker and previous partner in crime, who was previously throwing crude paper darts at a collection of the Citadel's most wanted, had currently fallen out of her seat, laughing the blue off her arse.

Roughly detangling himself from the mess, Garrus turned to his compatriot.

'Ha ha ha. Very funny Sharaia. Maybe next time you fall asleep doing this job, I'm going to draw all over your face.

Garrus and Sharaia had both been relegated to communications duty within Citadel Security, following a shared prank going wrong, one that left a few hundreds of credits worth of damage in the Executor's office following a surprise cake and a holograph of Sharaia naked, Asari ass. Really, who would have expected Palin to go for a Carnifex stashed under his desk in case of emergency? And that he would react so violently?

In any case, his subsequent retaliation against the two practical jokers had been harsh to say the least. Six months of work behind a desk working the Citadel sky car communication system, with no street beats.

As the two officers continued to bicker, a simple set of warning lights began to flash, slowly picking up electronic signals and passing them through a basic V.I. which in turn passed them through to more advanced routines and so on and so forth, till it passed it up to the coms control booth for appraisal by sentient controllers.

Sharaia turned and looked down at the information she was receiving, most of it coming up as incomprehensible gibberish.

'What th- ?'

The subtle lights began to escalate into a shrill whistling accompanied by bright, blaring lights, much to the surprise of the booths current controllers. The more readings that came in, the more warnings began to blare, considering the readings they were receiving were completely contradictory to what they usually received.

Garrus' mandibles flared outward and his nostrils flared.

'Sharaia...I think we should sent this up to the Executor. Now.'

* * *

Out in the space above the Citadel's arms, specifically the Zakera arm, a strange glowing ball was forming, with bolts of lightning spearing outwards. Multifaceted and with a multitude of bizarre colors, it was slowly growing larger and larger.

Soon, the bolts began to strike at any vehicles and ships that neared it, prompting the Citadel to move various ships near to blockade the area and redirect any traffic in the area.

Of course, this didn't stop the ship from flying out of the rapidly closing portal, clipping a smaller Salarian frigate and crashing into the central lake within the ward, before settling within the district. To be honest, in review, it was amazing that so little damage was done to the ward, and so few people were injured, but that can mainly be attributed to the ship simply landing in the central water supply on the Ward, instead of bulldozing through the multiple occupied buildings.

A crew of Citadel Security rescue units were sent in by Airship in an attempt to provide additional rescue support for the crashed ship, but due to rapid re-identification of the ship, they were called back and a secondary unit of Citadel Rapid Response moved in aboard a trio of Gunships to secure the site, supported by SPECTRE Tela Vasir. However, in the time needed to move them into the site, the majority of its crewmembers had evacuated from the ship into the surrounding water supply.

This did not, however, include the two passengers that were not able to move in the water as their counterparts could.

* * *

Vasir hooked herself into the drop cable and quickly slid down, landing amid a group of soldiers moving across the parts of this new ship that had not been submerged beneath the lake. A dour looking Turian nodded to her before motioning his squad to move out and secure any possible entrance points, the various soldiers rapidly moving forward across the strange stone surface towards a thick door. Looking upwards, he moved his claw in a different motion, signaling the Gunships to back off.

Striding forward, she moved forwards and lightly hitting the captain on the shoulder to grab his attention. As he swept his hands in a circle motion to call his crew back together around the entrance, Vasir detached her M-15 from her back and turned to the now assembled Response Team.

'Alright, listen up. We've confirmed that this ship doesn't match any of the ones we've got catalogued in our databases nor does it match any profiles or components that make up the usual shambles that exist out in the Terminus.'

She paused for a second, eying each member of the team.

_Doesn't match anything I could get out of the Broker in those five minutes anyway. _

'But I guess you already knew that. So what we have here is probably a new species that has no idea what they've just gotten themselves into, so keep your weapons checked and your safeties on. We don't want to scare these poor bastards anymore than they probably ar-'

A loud booming sound, coupled by a shudder across the entire hull of the ship cut her words out.

Both she and the squad turned as one towards a strange sight. A massive chunk of metal was currently flying upwards, launched up by some kind of explosive, and was now careering down into the lake beside the ship's hull.

A grunting sound was heard, causing every member to raise his or her guns towards the now open breach.

Two stubby pink hands reached up to the lip, followed by a tangled mess of blond hairs, similar to an unsuited Volus, and a bright red piece of clothing, wrapped around the creatures rising shoulders.

They watched as it, uncaring of its watchers, rolled on to what Tela suspected was its back, till a strange red flag began protruding from the limp the being had just emerged.

As it rolled back over and stuck what she suspected was its head and arms back down the breach, Tela took a moment to evaluate it.

It was tall, that much was certain, appearing to be the same height as an average Krogan, or a particularly tall Turian, but where a Krogan was made up of pure bulk and had the muscle to go with it, this creature looked wiry and thin. Its clothing also presented a strange sight.

It appeared to be clad in a mix of fashions, with a body suit covering what she could she of its upper body, which in turn had a thick chest piece of what she suspected was armour wrapping around its flat chest, complete with numerous containers and an oversized pistol strapped to it, while a long red cloak, something that wouldn't be out of place among Salarian culture, was strapped over its shoulders, including a large hood.

The lower body had a pair of baggy pants, which stretched down, to what Tela suspected was its knees, and connected to a pair of thick armour plated boots, similar to her own. Finally, numerous pockets and devices hanging off its lower body, including the two most interesting features of this being.

Firstly, it appeared to have a set of strangely colored books dangling down its back legs, each appearing to be dated old things, complete with what was most likely burnished golden clasps.

_Why would a space faring species still use something as outdated as hidebound books? _

Secondly, and more importantly, was a unique blade strapped to the other leg of the being.

It appeared longer than Vasir's full arm, complete with a multitude of strange and probably significant inscriptions along the length of the blade, and contained a massive handle that would probably take both of her hands to hold. It was this part that was the most notable, as a strange beast had been designed into the handle, similar to some of the ancient beasts that inhabited the Elcor home world and were reputed to carry off younger Elcor in old times.

_A blade? Nobody but the Krogan are insane or strong enough to use those in a serious combat situation._

Whatever this thing was, it was undoubtedly dangerous.

Of course, that opinion was quickly revised in threat levels following the massive blade that sunk into the metal rim surrounding the breach the being was reaching down into. A massive hand clasped the arm of the first being, hauling out what appeared to be a red furred, lightly clad creature covered in a truly obscene amount of what she suspected were valuable metals, some embedded into its skin, others dangling from various hooks.

The scariest part about it however, wasn't the thick armour that covered its stubby lower half, nor was it its sheer mass. Not even its horrific face scared her, as those tended to be par for the course in her work.

The thing it had used to pull itself upwards, was.

The weapon it was carrying was truly massive, roughly similar to the size Tela's torso, and looked thick with chips and chains covering it. The blade itself was massive, covered in strange engravings, but the scariest part was the fact that, as it had been stuck into the rim of the breach, it had actually cut a groove.

As it tumbled outwards, before rolling upwards, the two beings began conferring in their own language, before the orange furred one with the great crest turned and began gesturing to the taller one, towards were both she and the Response Crew were standing. Both of them turned towards the crew, each unsheathing their weapons, with the smaller one running its hand down the length of its blade and the taller one pulling a pistol that looked surprisingly similar to Citadel ware off its chest and readying its long blade.

_Okay, this could go badly, especially if that short one gets in close._

Tela stepped forward slowly, attaching her M-15 to her back and waving her hand towards the crew, she slowly stepped forwards and began to speak slowly and deliberately in what she hoped was a calm tone.

* * *

Felix maintained his pistol on what he hoped was not a gods damn daemonette.

Sure it was clad in what eerily appeared to be similar to standard dress for female Human soldiers, but the proportions all seemed subtle off, with its arms swinging just to low and its legs being way to high on its body. Its face though, its face was exactly like a humans.

More interestingly, was the weapons it was carrying. It appeared to have attached a gun of some kind to its back, causing it to fold up like some bizarre dwarven toy.

He'd fought with Demons more times than he cared to admit, which in his long history, had often ended in him requiring rescuing from there horrific mind altering presence. Thankfully, over the years, he had become surprisingly resistant to their 'charms' so to speak.

What was preventing him from pulling the trigger was the fact that there appeared to be a number of heavily armed soldiers standing behind it. That and he knew if he did, both him and Gotrek would be stranded out in the middle of this lake with no way off. Sure, the Lizardmen could swim bu-

He almost kicked himself, and if it wasn't for the slowly approaching Non-Daemonette he would have.

While Gotrek maintained eye contact with the slowly approaching wom- thing, he glanced around the lake, attempting to see if any of the crew where attempting to rescue him and Gotrek. He hoped that the Captain wouldn't abandon them to the mercies of these beings in order to flee himself.

A slight blue shape rose from beneath the water, and Felix suddenly felt much, much better about this entire situation. If anyone knew how to kill Demons as efficiently as Gotrek, it was the Lizardmen.

Lowering his gun, he began talking to Gotrek in a low voice.

'Gotrek...'

Not moving an inch, Gotrek responded.

'Aye Manling, I see them.

His hand reached up, and he ran his thumb down the edge of his blade, producing a single drop of bright red drop of blood.

With a massive splash, a multitude of Skink crewmen, along with each of the Saurus warriors and a few of the Kroxigor workers who helped move the Old One artifacts aboard the ship previously, jumped upwards, each armed with heavy grade weaponry, or in the case of the Kroxigor, a massive section of metal piping. The crew opposing Gotrek and Felix, along with the Non-Daemonette, attempted to turn to face the surrounding forces, but two Saurus warriors had moved in behind them and were currently holding their weapons up against them, both their long spears and arm cannons.

Captain Py'qird raised himself up, his fin proudly raised and his blood pumping into it, brightening the previous dull orange coloring into a bright, burnt orange reminiscent of his now crashed ship. Quickly scuttling forward, he made his way past their now surrounded foe and past the frozen Not-Daemonette before stopping before Felix.

'Safe, Men and Dwarves? Yes, worried that Blessed passengers not live.'

He continued to chatter before turning towards the figure standing before them, the equivalent of a smirk on his face.

What happened next, Felix had no idea.

A brightly colored skink, wrapped in a cloak of many exotic feathers, clambered up on to the hull of the ship, shouting what Felix's basic understanding of Saurian equivocated to 'No stop, you don't know!' Which was disheartening to say the least. A smaller skink quickly followed him, wearing the normal outfit of a Skink researcher, one that he had spent a few moments with, eyes glazed over as it attempted to educate him of the device they had uncovered.

A few brief moments of conversation at a rapid pace, culminating in the Captain turning back towards both him and Gotrek.

'Ah, Blessed Man, we have data on this beings. Come with, help talk and stop violence, yes?'

Felix began walking towards the Non-Daemonette, lightly conversing with the Captain, as Gotrek sullenly trotted on behind them.

'What do you mean information? Is this to do with that machine we dug up on that planet?

'Yes-yes, see-see? '

To illustrate his point, the Captain scampered up to the figure before them, nodding to the Kroxigor leaning over her, before pulling on her limbs and pointing at various features.

'Its like what we found. Information is the same, but they are now Void farers, like us.'

He turned back to Felix.

'Old Ones says many things. Creature does mind magic yes? But won't work on Skinks, must be Manlings.'

Felix sighed, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

'Oh gods dammit. Look, I don't want this thing inside my head Captain. But if it'll get us out of this situation... it still won't be the worst thing I've gone through with. Tell me, how do we get this over with?'

The smaller skink scientist, who was preoccupied with the frills on the Non-Daemonette head, was kicked slightly by the Captain and turned towards Felix.

'Yes-yes, we know much. Must take arms from being, Species number 3010654 on records, and place at Manling head.'

Felix stepped forward, and lightly grabbed each of the beings, the Non-Daemonette's, arms.

_Oh I am going to regret this._

Lifting the arms up he placed them at his forehead, as the being raised he-it's own arms and positioned them where it was most comfortable.

_At least its co-operating._

A feeling of weightlessness overtook his body, and he could feel his mind opening to the being before him. Unfortunately, it had unpleasant implications of feeling exactly like the numerous attempts that had previously occurred to penetrate his mind. Specifically Demonic attempts.

Suddenly, the feeling decreased and eventually petered off, with the Being lowering her arms.

A husky voice spoke up.

'Well, now that thats over, can you get your buddies to drop your guns?'

Felix stared at the being before him.

_Did she just speak? _

The surrounding Lizardmen all turned and began chattering among each other, while the Saurus maintained their positions.

Gotrek muscled his way past the Captain and the Priest, making his way next to Felix.

'Now that it's all done, where the hell are we witch?'

Felix winced.

_Oh this was going to be bad._

'We are on the Citadel. And all of you are in a lot of trouble.'

A loud thumping was heard, and numerous gunships descended from above, many cannons focused on the various Saurus and Kroxigor blearily turning and raising their weapons skywards, a few still remaining focused on their new prisoners, to dense to react to this new event.

One of the larger gunships, larger than the rest, spun around, revealing a back entrance containing a number of heavily armoured soldiers and what appeared to be a mounted cannon.

* * *

As Tela stepped forward, she couldn't help but feel apprehensive towards the two beings standing before her.

The smaller red furred one looked like it could take a hit from a Krogan and return with twice the power, while the taller, lankier one appeared to be equipped with a set of customized armor, along with an oversized pistol, complete with three separate barrels, each looking capable of blowing her shield out in one hit. Whether they could was another question, and one she wasn't willing to risk.

As she stepped forward, she could feel her Vindicator folding itself into standby mod, ready if she needed it. Although, the way that shorter one was, she suspected, glaring at her, she doubted she would be able to get it out before it got in close.

Thank the gods for Biotics then.

Raising her arms up in what she hoped was a peaceful fashion, she began to slowly speak to the pair of beings standing in front of her.

'Ok, I doubt you can understand me but we're just going to play this calm and relaxed ok?'

She lowered a finger down her palm and tapped at her interface, trying to connect to the squad network. A few taps, followed by continued eye contact with the two beings before her, and she was connected.

'Captain, I'm taking this slow, and I want to try and get up close, but I'm going to need you to lower your weapons. Judging by the way these things are standing, they're already frightened or looking for a fight, and we are not going to be the ones to start this.'

A blip of acknowledgement echoed through her suit, as the Captain and the Response Crew lowered their weapons and spread out outward, attempting to spread themselves apart in case things did go wrong.

'Its ok, you and me and all the people around us, we're all going to be fine. No shooting, no killing, no forced reports to the council, no nothing ok? You are just going to keep you weapons down, and not try to cut me up like an angry Krogan would.'

Tela watched as the taller one began to move its head from side to side, lowering its gun in what was hopefully a friendly manner, while the shorter one continued to stare at her, blade in hand. Quietly, they began to speak again in low tone.

What is it doing? Some kind of cultur-

A dark blue shape, almost invisible to the naked eye, slowly glided throughout the water surrounding the crashed ship, a strange ridge raised, causing the water to rise with it, betraying its position. Tela almost didn't see it, and if she hadn't been trained to deal with such situations, she probably wouldn't have. Unfortunately, the Response team weren't trained as she was, and still maintained a loose stance, all still focused on the two figures ahead of them.

_Oh no._

A great splash, followed by numerous massive shapes rising upwards, shocked the entire Response team, with Vasir bracing herself to stop her from reacting suddenly.

As the water rained down, slowly dissipating into a thin mist, hulking blue shapes surrounded the Response team. Great things, reminiscent of something similar to an abomination of a bastard offspring of an alpha Varren, a Yagh and an angry Krogan all towered over the Response crew, each armored strangely, clad in tight jumpsuits covering what appeared to be their lower limbs and central body, with numerous plates of armor interlocked across them, all colored in what was a mixture of dark blue and a mixture of grays, with minuscule symbols and signs in a muted orange.

The things heads however, was their most terrifying aspect. Colored in a strange Hexagonal scheme of various shades of Gray and Blue, they covered the entire head of the beasts, leaving simple, featureless metal behind, the only major features being the horrific burnt orange light emitted from the seams of the helmet and the disturbingly industrialized symbols printed along a single side of each.

The weapons leveled against the response crew appeared to be strapped to the arms of the creatures, forming a massive gauntlet on the lower arm of each of them, connected by some metal band wired to their flesh, all the way across their shoulders and to a possible ammo source behind them. Each of them also held a bladed weapon like the two Tela originally faced, but different in shape. Similar in shape to the traditional weapons of the Krogan, the consisted of a long metal pole, some having numerous strange items tied to them, connected to a truly massive blade, complete with strange, golden inscriptions along its length.

Tela mentally cursed at both herself and the rest of the Crew that were behind her.

Of course there were going to be more exits, especially on a ship this size. The crew it required must be upwards of a hundred, not including any possible cultural or design differences that encourage even larger numbers of crew members aboard. And the probability of some form of military unit onboard, similar to the crews aboard traditional ships used by Citadel forces.

Worse still was the fact that the species she that now trained weapons on both her and the Response Crew were radically different, considering one was more than twice both her own height and that of the crew, along with being horrifically scaled and armed, and the others looked like smooth skinned, hairy beings.

Two new species, possibly in an alliance, currently at spacefaring stages and with ships similar in size to our own. I have to fix this before we end up starting a new war all over again.

Before she could step forward again, a great claw wrapped around her shoulder, its massive talons reaching her waist from size alone. Resisting the urge to throw the offender away with a pure biotic blast, with a warp thrown in for good measure, she slowly tilted her head backwards. A gigantic maw, filled with a mouth of fangs that would make a Krogan envious, and probably out bite a Yagh, was a few inches from her own. The massive head turned slightly, revealing a single unblinking eye staring into her own, connected to a massive body towering over her, its length and height greater than any known Citadel species to date.

What ever it was, it was either a giant among the beings holding the Response Crew hostage, or some sort of genetically enhanced attack dog. And judging by the by the various similar creatures Tela could spy behind its massive bulk, it appeared to be the later.

She would have continued to look at this thing that was undoubtedly something out of a horror vid, if it wasn't for another large splashing noise, along with something much more relieving. The communications officers had called back into the gunships that she had sent away earlier, and were organizing additional ones to arrive in support, along with some properly armed reinforcements.

All she had to do know was keep these things from biting her head off and this could all be turned to her advantage.

A smaller creature, barely reaching her waist scuttled past her, numerous fetishistic items and what she suspected were medals of some sort, jangling and dangling off its person. Its body shape was radically different from the beings she had identified previously, with it crouching much lower and maintaining a much smaller target area than the other scaled creatures surrounding the Response Crew. And she had no doubt it was one of them, its general shape and features containing numerous semblance's to the larger ones, despite varying key features, such as the massive orange frill and its diminutive size. Of course, this opened a whole new problem for both Herself and the Citadel, especially if the two species were as related as their features presented them to be.

Its clothing was also interesting, consisting of a tight body suit, incredibly similar to the suits worn by the bigger soldiers, but lacking any specific armor beyond a tight chest piece covering what she suspected was its vital organs. Where the skin suit was primarily a tight fitting thing, colored as the other soldiers, its chest piece was decorated with intricate patterns and what appeared to be gold inlay. Numerous signs, most likely suggesting some form of importance, colored in the same muted orange as before, were imprinted over its chest.

Calming herself, she attempted to beginning speaking again, but the strange smaller being was in conversation with the two before her, conversing in what could only be described as an unholy combination of snarls and hisses, along with a few sharp screeches. Suddenly, two more creatures darted past her, similar in shape to the previous one, but each radically different in outfits. The first one appeared to be wrapped in the same skin suit as the others, but it had some bizarre cape of bright feathers, fluttering behind it, along with a strange golden staff clasped in one claw, shaped in a horrific snarling face.

The second, smaller figure, following behind the first was wrapped in the bare essentials, which mainly consisted of the recognizable skin suit like the others, but lacking in the many disturbing fetishistic items and bone charms that decorated the other two, along with a thinner chest piece.

Each added into the conversation before her, gesturing wildly at her, eventually culminating in the highly decorated one striding around her, despite the giant remaining both solid and silent behind her, jabbing at her and pulling her arms outwards for the others to expect.

While the two other lizard beings chittered excitedly before her, Tela noticed that the two beings that had pulled themselves out of the original breech did not seem interested in her person or participate in the conversation beyond single grunts and nods.

As the begins all inspected her, she could her the coms teams sending blips through out the entire Response Crew network, informing all of them that the Gunships were on route to their persons, all fully armed and loaded up with additional crews to help secure the area in case things took a turn for the worse.

However, the smaller scaled begins appeared to have other plans, grabbing and raising her arms, while appearing to be in what appeared to be a fierce debate with the taller of the originally two beings, encouraging him to tak-

_The Melding. Of course! But how do these things know about that?_

Despite the appearance of these creatures, Tela's weariness towards them had changed, especially in regards to what she expected of them, and how big a possible threat they could possibly posses to both her and the Citadel races. If they had information on her species, especially something like the Mind Melding, despite the lack of any official meeting between them, it hinted at something much more sinister.

Raising her arms in compliance with the smaller scaled creatures, she rested her hands on the head of the taller, furred creature. Despite acting as one of the Councils SPECTRE units, and primarily focusing on eliminating any major military threats, she understood how to use her abilities as an Asari to Mind Meld with other beings. However, she did lack the specific training that many Asari interpreters undergo to transfer anything beyond basic linguistic knowledge.

As she tensed her arms on what she assumed was the forehead of the taller creature, she spent a few brief seconds taking in its facial features in comparison to her own. Where the Asari were subtler scaled creatures, the flesh of this being was tanned and old, covered in numerous rough hairs that she could feel under her fingers. The most interesting feature was the sheer number of subtle scares, which she could barely feel beneath her hands, a bizarre crisscross that would be impossible to notice without contact.

Her eyes focused on the darker pair in front of hers, and with a silent statement of 'embrace eternity'; she melded with the creature before her.

* * *

**A/N: THIS LINK DOES NOT WORK, DON'T GO TO IT.**

**TowerofHoeth/C!Dwarf/Industry/Space **

Article:  
Early attempts at space flight  
The effects of experiments into rocketry and the advance of the Chaos Dwarves.

Following increased growth and funding within numerous Empire Universities, which is often attributed to the development of public education and the abolishment of Child workers, efforts in the Imperial year of 3293 lead to the creation of an entirely new department of study within the major colleges, including the Bright Wizard college of Magic, Atmospheric Chemistry as part of the overarching field of Engineering. Originally formed within the Engineering College of Nuln (Redirects from: Imperial Gunnery School), it received full funding from the Elector Count's Office following the famous experiment of 3292 (Redirect: Magnus Rocket) which resulted in the first Alliance based, non-magically assisted atmospheric flight.

Despite this early development of rocketry, that eventually developed into the Alliance Space Program, by 3218 the central Ziggurat of Zharr-Naggrund was developing the space craft,K_alab Belim (Translated: The Master's Victory) _that resulted in the first sentient being launched into the outer atmosphere of Luto Pila.  
The originally design centered around a central rocket, with the primary design philosophy behind it being focused on simply getting the rocket into space, development of other key systems could be designed later, at the cost of over a hundred Hobgoblin slaves. Recorded information consists of the first 'Cosmonaut', the Hobgoblin Gharkan, repeatedly screaming during take off, before attempting to perform EVA space walk to the check for any potential damage and suffocating due to mistakes made during initial spacesuit design. Records still indicate that his body is in orbit, frozen and, according to popular Chaos Dwarven rumor, still screaming.

Note, his corpse is checked on the eve of the celebration of the original successful launch. Commonly referred to as 'Got a Gobo watching over you' (Redirect: multi-species Popular sayings), it is often used as a statement referring to the averageness of whoever it is directed at.

Later launches and rocketry development, culminating in the development of the first Alliance Space Station, continued over the following centuries.  
However, their are many opinions surrounding the development of space flight, with many blaming the unregulated launches of numerous Space Craft for the various 'Morrslieb Wars' and the eventual Morrslieb Warpstone crisis. Also noted for the universal condemnation of Skaven actions during this period, and the development of the first and only planetary Dwarven Grudge.

* * *

Wooo, finally uploading this to Fanfiction!


	2. Chapter 2

Stepping backwards, Tela lowered her arms, foreign words bouncing around skull, along with numerous fleeting memories.

Attempting to categorize and control many of the words that now infested her skull was splitting her head open, the sheer pain of so many different languages mixing and matching, all these different meanings and terms and things that had no counterparts in her own language. The key thing she had learned of this being, beyond a mash of languages, was the sheer age of the being. Where her mind was a mere six centuries old, this creatures mind was cavernous and deep, older and more ancient than any she had ever joined before.

A slight buzz echoed in her ear, a countdown running.

She smirked, and cleared her throat.

'Well now that that's over, can you get your buddies to drop your guns?'

Every being in front of her fixed her with a variety of stares, their features ranging from a slightly opened mouth and squinted eyes from the vein- no Human, she had merged with, and the smaller scaled beings each rapidly raising and lowering their fins, each pulsing with burnt orange color.

The only being that didn't visually react was the short, red-furred one. It muscled its way to the forefront of the small crowd, its bulk knocking away many of the smaller creatures.

'Now that it's all down, where are we witch?'

The noise in her ear rose slightly, as various call signs were questioned and answered, machines being moved into position, and crewmembers readying weaponry.

'We are on the Citadel. And you are in a lot of trouble.'

The thumping noise of numerous Gunships now echoed overhead, with many sleek forms darting sideways, their weapons trained on the larger armored soldiers, while larger transports opened various hatches. A single drop-ship detached itself from the majority of the group and slowly took position near Tela, a hatch slid back and a heavy mounted cannon loaded up, the gunner focusing on the beings before her.

* * *

As the numerous ships floated around the crew, Felix couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia, and a slightly disturbed feeling following that.

It wasn't the first time he'd ended up in a situation like this. Wasn't even the second one either.

No, all he needed to do was let the captain try and talk his way out of this mess, or failing that, let Gotrek cut his way out. Wouldn't be the first time he'd seen Gotrek take down an airship with his axe either.

A slight moment of retrospect threw Felix's thoughts.

'It says something about my life when I already now how to get out of the situation, and even then, basing it purely off experience.'

Any how, he had to focus on settling this peacefully.

'Captain…'

'Yes-Yes, I know blessed passenger.'

The Captain motioned slightly with his arm, causing the Saurus warriors and the few Kroixgors supporting them to lower their weapons and return to a stand-by state. The figures they had been holding hostage followed no such commands, immediately raising their weapons and rapidly backing away, guns trained on the crew.

It was a testament to the Saurus' training (and breeding) that none of them reacted to this turn of events.

The Non-Dem- the Asari also started belting out commands to her troops.

From the haze banks of his own memory, Felix could roughly understand the various orders she was giving, despite misunderstanding a number of basic sentence structural difference between their to languages. A mess of sharp chirps and whistles sounded off some of the armoured troops, their weapons still focused on the ships crew.

* * *

'With all due respect ma'am, these things just popped out of no where, held us hostage, and are now only standing down because of one order?'

The Turian commander flicked his arm out, singling some team members to shift around to the flank of those giant warriors.

'We don't know what they are, their capabilities, and if they'll just pounce on us again.'

Tela had to physically and consciously restraint herself from shouting at this idiot.

'Captain. Stand down. That is a direct order, from a SPECTRE.'

He wavered slightly, still focused on the beings in front of him.

'We are in the middle of a first contact situation. Crowds are gathering and the media is probably already recording us. The Council will be watching.

Stand Down now.'

Tela watched with slight satisfaction as the captain roughly ordered his squad to stand down, despite the fact he ordered them to key weapons free.

Alright. Now to try and salvage this clusterfuck.

* * *

The next hour, suffice to say, was incredibly boring from the perspective of Felix, discounting the entire 'new race, giant space station, and multiple weapons being held in his general direction' parts. Acting as a translator between a tiny, vengeful skink and what he suspected was a demon in disguise, despite the knowledge that it was another species, was not particularly taxing on his part, as years of speaking nearly ever known 'civil' language had prepared him to spot some truly strange linguistic sounds.

Following a rough agreement between the 'SPECTRE' and Captain Py'qird, both the Captain, Gotrek and himself were loaded up on one of the gunships to transport them to the shoreline, along with transport to meet the leaders of this space station. Felix couldn't help but chuckle at the entire 'take me to your leaders' part of the conversation, prompting the Spectre to ask why.

Despite denying it, he was constantly reminded by a story he'd been assigned to read by one of the editors back at his very-late brothers company. A relatively fantastical story (which was ironic coming from him of all authors) was that of some alien race landing on Luto Pila and demanding to be 'taken to your leaders.' A shame the young lady who had written it died almost two centuries ago.

At any rate, the gunship ride wasn't particularly eventful. However, he did note that the Captain had been issuing orders for his crew to move forward beneath the lake towards their drop site, presumably as some show of force against these new species.

That and Gotrek was beginning to eye the various aliens aboard the gunship with a very annoyed gleam in his eye, one that never boded well with out the addition of booze or close combat.

* * *

As the Gunship began to bring itself lower, the uptake from its engines blasting away the accumulated grit and trash of the Citadel walk ways, Tela shifted in her seat, attempting to catalogue the mish mash of words that would out line what she was about to ask of them.

She began with the language she'd successfully used before, but she still lacked the words she desired. A number of other languages floated inside her mind, and she tried a multitude, mixing and matching in an attempt to pass her request across.

Judging by the looks on the faces of her allies, she'd sounded like some horrific beast from the pit, and the looks of the crew they'd picked up, they only partially understood her.

Luckily, the being she'd melded with, the elder, attempted to communicate back, speaking her own language with greater ease than she'd seen any other attempting to do, especially one coming off a recent melding attempt.

'What was it you asked of us?'

'You are going to have to leave your weapons in storage on the ship. I don't know if this may be against whatever cultural values you may have, but I will not let you appear before the Council carrying those.'

Judging by the look on the Elder's face, this may prove difficult.

* * *

The Gunship slowly descended to the lower wards ring, nearing the junction that connected to the Presidium ring. Unfortunately, a massive unknown spaceship crashing into the local water supply, along with a new race being seen in what appeared to be a stand-off between local C-Sec forces, had led to a massive media frenzy surrounding the landing site. As such, C-Sec was hard pressed to try and contain the baying mob, and numerous camera drones flitted around, diving in and are the cordon, despite numerous tech operatives trying their best to shut them down.

By the time the shuttle had landed, the crowd was already at its breaking point, with numerous citizens and journalists pushing against the barriers in an attempt to see what would come out.

And as the doors finally opened, they went mental; from fear or excitement none could truly say.

The sight of two or three new alien races, especially ones that had nearly crashed into a heavily populated Ward, moved them into heightened states of frenzy, while cameras buzzed around and reporters eagerly screamed and shouted out reports and queries to the new species.

A rough shove knocked a few C-Sec staff over, sending them out into the crowd. Despite the stern looks of the Turian guards and their tightening of weapons, Gorek scowled and glared at them, as if begging for them to try and fight him. Felix may have convinced him that the two Saurus warriors following them as guards, to hold their weapons, but it did nothing to persuade him from antagonizing the soldiers surrounding them.

Clearly, Gotrek was not enjoying the experience.

Felix could only raise his hood and keep is head low, hoping none of what he suspected were the local media, were foolish enough to actually get in range of Gotrek.

He'd seen what had happened whenever the press got to close to annoying Gotrek. Something the media back on Luto Pila had learned the hard way, and made a conscious decision to standby.

A massive drone buzzed in front of Gotrek, before either Felix or the 'SPECTRE' could bat it away, displaying a holographic outline of what appeared to be another one of those repulsive 'Asari'.

From what Felix could understand from the basic knowledge he'd acquired, it was babbling something along the lines of that horrific tabloid nonsense he'd seen back one Luto.

A quiet voice in the back of his head was also pointing out that he was glad he'd never allowed his own families company to ever produce such shameful parodies of information.

Gotrek's reaction however, was something he'd both expected and feared.

He swung his short arms outwards, clipping the camera and bringing it low. Roughly grasping the two sides, he heaved and bisected both the blue hologram, and the floating camera in front of him, throwing the two halves of the camera to the ground with such force that they left great gouges in the metal and causing the various reporters leaning over the barricades to quickly lean backwards. As Gotrek dusted off his hands, his eye swept the crowd, as if inviting the rest of them to try it person.

It was no surprise that the rest of the media began to pull back the rest of their own devices, as the group made their way up to the elevator that lead to these 'Leaders'.

At least the most eventful part of this should be over.

Glancing around as his companions, he noted a savage glare on the face of the Captain. No doubt he had enjoyed the sight of Gotrek carving his way through those few cameras that had gotten to close.

A bright eye flicked up to his, mischief dancing through it.

As one, a massive number of the Saurian warriors raised themselves from the lake, marching over the barriers near the elevator and pushing past both the crowd and the soldiers guarding them. Each marched in step before halting at the doors, spinning slightly, before all standing at perfect attention before them. Not a single misstep or misplace action, all timed and in perfect co-ordination.

As the crowd raised itself in a massive cacophony of noise, Felix lowered his head and hood even lower.

This was going to be a long day.

* * *

Tela resisted the urge to simply shoot the bloody-minded oaf in front of them, which was mainly held in check by the fact that she probably would have done the same if in such a position.

The smaller rough furred one with the massive crest and horrific number of scars, introduced by the Elder one as Go-Trek, continued to glare at the crowd, despite a slight push from behind to keep him moving.

Knowledge of the Asari biology, an attitude worse than a castrated Krogan and a multitude of weapons designed for both long and close range?

These beings were the opposite of what an Elder being should be, nowhere nearly worthy of the Matriarch title.

As long as they remained moving and without any more violence, perhaps she could salvage this situation without calls of fear and violence from the rest of the local populace.

Of course, when the legion of armed and heavily armoured giant Lizards marched out of the water, massive pole-arms held ready, and took up position outside the elevator, still dripping water and moving nary a muscle, despite C-Sec's attempts to relocate them, she was starting to get angry.

Both the Captain and the two Elders were going to require a clear message before she introduced them to the Council.

* * *

To say that the two elder matriarchs held no notion of beauty would be folly in Tela's mind. Both stood with great strength in their limbs and fierce intelligence in their eyes. To often, in her six centuries, she had seen both Asari and Krogan go soft and dull over the years, centuries of life wearing away their minds and bodies.

But to say that either of the two elders were actually beautiful?

It repulsed Tela that any creatures so old, with such echoing thoughts, could appear so uncultured, so uncivilized in appearance and weaponry.

Within her own people, in their myriad of cultures, one aspect remained key, the Matriarchs were supposed to be the eldest, the most knowledgeable, the most beautiful out of all Asari, the ones who were unto goddesses among her people and existed beyond the childish notion of self-servitude, but lived to serve their people as shining examples of what they were to be.

And to compare them to these beings?

The two before her were roughly dressed, armed with archaic weaponry, filled with bloodlust and thoughts of wanderlust.

How could such things, such ancient beings that should be deserving of such respect and awe, from any among her people, be so … so … so wrong?

Not only were their minds and thoughts so different to her own, their forms, to her eyes and what she believed would be the view of many of her own people, were disgusting.

The eldest of the pair was understandably hideous. Simply looking upon him conjured feelings of bile within Tela. Mangled extremities, a multitude of horrific scars, some so fresh as to still have bruising surrounding them, while others were knitted against its skin, creating a terrifying patchwork of years gone by. One of its eyes gouged out, replaced not by a following crystal garment that her people would wear, nor a replacement that was so common these days, but by a worn scuffed piece of animal hide, lacking any embodiment or substance beyond the rough laces holding it together.

Its nose and mouth were no better. While many creatures among the races that made up the Citadel, from Turian to Asari to Yagh, none had such horrifying features as this. Its teeth were mottled and black, like stone tombstones in shape, with green growth not unlike the vines of Thessia lacing them, tainting them with a horrible mix of yellows and greens.

The only thing that even hinted at any kind of overarching culture separating it from beast, was the endless golden bangs and chains engraved with numerous scenes of gods and men.

But even those were despoiled by how they were treated! Among the Asari, especially among the matriarchs, it was near taboo to defile the flesh by tearing at it and embedding it with stones and metals. True refinement came through the following art that was painted into an Asari, the sweeping lines and endless swirling scrip's showing, if not reverence to the gods, their age and understanding.

This eldest Matriarch, this alien, was covered in numerous golden chains and tight bangs, each decorated with scenes of glory and horrible rectangular scrip that was disgusting to look upon.

No, the eldest was visible horrible, wearing its hideousness with an almost fierce pride.

The elder, youngest between the two, held its own disgusting features, but they were subtle and ensnaring. When even she studied the alien, its forms and cultural cues, she almost grasped them. But at the point of realization, they became wrong, horrible corrupted values of the Asari reflected in its outfit and lifestyle, its existence almost a mockery of the wise Matriarchs.

Its own form reflected these ideas, its limbs and extremities shaped in a mocking form to her own. Its arms swung to high, arms reaching to long, fingers grasping and stretching beyond what should be capable of a common hand.

A traitorous though wormed through her mind as she stood in the ever-climbing elevator. What if these thoughts were not unlike those of her people when they first encountered the many races of the Citadel?

Maybe in ages past, when they first met the young Salarians, their jittery bodies and ever-moving minds drove away her own kind before they adapted, and joined with them? What of the days when the Asari found the colossal Elcor, their forms massive and unwieldy like the serpentine whales of Thessia? Were her people as revolted as now?

Whatever her thoughts, Tela was a Spectre, servant of the Council and its people. She had a duty to them, to ensure that peace was maintained, no matter the cost. If that required her to accept these things, then she would.

Another thought returned to her, something that had been the focus of her rage when those great beasts strode out of the Citadel lakes.

She raised her hand to her helmet, and called for the elevator to reduce its speed. These aliens needed to now the proper respect that was due to the Council, and by Athemes sacred lights, she would teach them it.

* * *

Commander Joram of the Citadel rapid response unit maintained his stance, weapon held ready and eyes locked on the larger reptiles standing at attention behind the smaller creature.

Since they had moved into the elevator, accompanying the smaller reptilian creature, he had kept his eyes locked on them, silently judging them, awaiting the slightest movement, any twitch of an eye or tail.

So far, nothing.

All ride he had been inspect them, taking in their features, estimating their possible threat to the Council. He'd be damned if he let these creatures before them with any means of harming the Council, be it weaponry or their own teeth and claws.

Their massive jaws and long claws were the biggest natural threat, combined with their huge size, they looked like some pack hunter ready to hunt the massive game that wandered Pavalen. Their artificial weaponry was no less intimidating. Each held to colossal staffs in their hands, each taller than him, while the blades bolted to the top appeared to be sharp enough to slice through his own natural plating, not to mention his armour.

And their other arms, despite holding the cases provided for their 'diplomatic' guests weaponry, still had long cables running along them, connecting to massive barrels that appeared to be like Gatling cannons.

If they could fire such things with a single arm, and still maintain the use of their melee weapons, these aliens could be formidable foes.

But even as he evaluated their strengths, Joram was also accounting for what he believed to be weaknesses.

Already, he had realized that, for all their strength, they were slow and unwieldy, built for strength and brutish war, rather than the lightning strikes of his own people.

A movement to his side drew his eye.

The Spectre had raised a hand to her helmet, faint words filtering out.

The elevator shuddered and groaned, the speed slowing.

The other aliens, the 'diplomats' turned to the Spectre, the tall lanky one speaking a mishmash of Thessian, the jarring voice causing problems for his own translation software.

* * *

Felix turned, questions forming on his lips, only to be halted by a splayed hand held forward by the Asari.

'Alright, listen up. So far, you've crashed into the Citadel on a ship made out of rocks, nearly gotten in a firefight, and your friend has purposely antagonized the media out there. Not to mention that display your armed forces put on.'

She lowered her arm, breathing deeply.

'That stops. Now. I don't give a damn about your posturing or your cultural reasons. It stops here.'

She turned, eyes shifting between Gotrek and the Captain.

'You are going into a meeting with our ruling Council. If any of you, any of you! Pulls another stunt like that, I will personally throw you off this station myself. Am I clear?'

Felix simply looked at her.

She was asking him to tell Gotrek, a Trollslayer, to watch his manners in front of their leaders?

She turned her head to his, eyes boring into his.

'Translate it'

A brief moment after he had told the rest of his companions, Gotrek turned to her, thumped his fists together and released a low growl.

'The Witch wants peace? She can have it over my body.'

Both the Asari and Gotrek advanced upon each other, Gotreks meaty hands slamming together and knuckles cracking, while strange flickering wisps of energy began to peel away from the Spectre's body.

A light ding echoed, the large metal doors parting sideways, revealing a beautifully decorated hall, almost reminiscent of the Araby halls of Felix's past travels.

The Spectre stood backwards, before turning and stepping out of the elevator, the police commander from before falling in step behind her.

Py'qird, motioned with his tail, a slight flick, sending his own guards marching forward, Gotrek, Felix and the Captain following behind.

They marched upwards, brutishly pushing past the multiple aliens the inhabited the hall.

The Spectre was ahead of them, pulling to a stop before a massive staircase that lead upward to a long platform. She turned and glared at Gotrek, before roughly motioning up the stairs.

The Captain scurried upwards, his tail flicking outward and the Sarus guards taking place on either side of the staircase. Gotrek was quick to follow suit, stomping upwards with all the joy of a bull on the way to a stockyard. Finally, Felix paused before the steps, turning towards the Spectre, before roughly bowing to her.

'I apologize for our inconvenience Ms Vasir. My companions have never been the most civil of beings, and I would ask that you forgive their actions. A Dwarf like Gotrek gives his own people issues, let alone those of the other races.'

If she gave any indication of hearing, it did not register with Felix, so with a quiet goodbye, he stepped up the stairs, aiming to catch up with his fellow travellers.

* * *

By the time he'd reached the top, the Captain was already in the midst of giving his own introduction. What few bits Felix was catching consisted of the usual mix of 'Star pond', Ship' and 'Old Ones'.

The Captain turned to him, crest flaring.

Felix swallowed, lips turning dry.

He stood over what would look to the uninformed to be a pirates gangplank stretching across a pleasant garden below. Before him stood three figures dressed in a startling array of differing clothing and colours.

'I bid you greeting on behalf of the Systems Alliance, the Reikland Empire and my current allies the …'

* * *

Felix waited with a brief pause at the end of his introduction. Slowly, he turned his head to the left and right, taking in the surrounding environment. When he had initially entered, he had suspect it was towards some kind of official meeting hall, like those favored by kings and queens of ages past. He was not disappointed.

He had passed between magnificent halls, stretching high and detailed sparsely, each carved with smooth flowing lines, lacking any detail beyond sheer simplicity. The stairs upward had been long and lightly sloped, a hundred pink leafed trees slowly fading away as he and the rest of his accomplices stepped forward, thousands of petals swaying and floating away. He presumed that some kind of air conditioner had been installed to give such an effect.

In total, it was reminiscent of some kind of bizarre mixture of the High King's palace in Karaz-a-Karak and the Celestial Emperor's palace of Cathay, if lacking in obscene amounts of gold and a ridiculous number of artworks. However, the place where he now stood had initially been a slight shock to him.

Standing on a great dais suspended over a small garden of blooming trees, it hung ominously in the midst of the chamber, surrounded on all sides by great balconies and facing a massive dais, larger than it, in front of it.

All around him, on the multitude of balconies shrouded in darkness, gleamed hundreds of eyes, all differently shaped and radiating in the darkness. From one balcony, he spied a great beast, almost like a Stegadon of the terrifying jungles of Lustria, but wrapped in a swaddle of cloaks and lacking the numerous, deadly horns that the Stegadon used to gore its enemies.

From another, he spied a strange creature, almost lizard-like in appearance, eyes blinking rapidly and its skin reflecting the light softly. Even as he watched, its eyes rapidly blinked, many more only visible from the shine in their eyes amid the darkness. Beside it was a small ball-like thing, a squig in armor and with stubby limbs, slowly waving and gesturing to the members surrounding it.

Again and again, he saw numerous creatures all watching and conversing with each other, judging the strange man that stepped before it.

Righting himself, he back away slowly, his cape slowly dragging along the pristine floor, the dust and water leaving a smear along the metallic floor. He stood himself by the Captain and his erstwhile friend Gotrek, awaiting the reaction of the three beings that had been stood before him.

The first was another of strange women-like creatures, the Asari. Clad in a slim dress of garish pink, it stood coldly, the centre of power within the room. All eyes were draw to its form, the long legs and stocky torso, with strange white lines spiraling along its blue skin. The face of this woman was like ice, a sharp complexion of winter and a fierce gaze, dominating the Council of beings surrounding her.

In a way, she almost reminded him of the line of Tzar's of Kislev, their blood granting them mastery of ice and snow to drive back the ever-raiding chaos to the north.

Beside her was a being wrapped in massive cloaks, each layer building and spiraling around its minuscule figure, leaving only a single line of strange patterns available to comprehend for any who looked upon it. Within its dark hood were to pitch black eyes, rapidly blinking and flickering back and forth, alien knowledge darting back and froth within its mind.

To the other side of the Asari was a creature armored in a set of fine-spun clothing, utilitarian and simple. A simple blue color with red outlines. Beneath sat numerous plates of hardened flesh, each shaped to protect its body. Its head was stretched and thin, two large mandibles flaring outwards as it considered what stood before it. As with the first, the Asari, many white lines covered its face, but styled as spikes and jagged edges, carving their way through the plating, as a knife would flesh.

As Felix watched, many a chirp and slight croaking were heard from the two creatures standing next to the central Asari, each bending their head to look at her, while she continued to look at the new creatures within her realm.

A light tugging on his arm pulled his view away from the spectacle, the young Skink from before, the scientist looking up at him, a single unblinking eye looking into his own.

"Blessed one, what are the soft-soft things saying? Many good things, yes?'"

"I do not know, from what I can barely understand, they are deliberating on an acceptable course of action."

A rough huffing sound came from Felix's side, a sign of Gotrek's annoyance at the whole affair.

"Come manling, we have better things to be doing than listening to the caterwauling of aliens. I thirst, and they better have a drink in this mess of a station."

Turning backwards, Gotrek swiped his Axe out the claws of their Saurus Guards and began to move away from the Dais. A rough excuse to Captain Py'quird and the retrieval of his own equipment, Felix joined him.

* * *

The Dancing Varen was your typical bar, for the Zakera Wards. Scummy, filled with whores and booze, along with a terrible thumping beat of the blazing music. In all, a tip of a place, and perfect for many of the seedier characters that lived in the wards.

Here a man could find many things, be it a partner for the night, a drink strong enough to knock you off your feet, drugs, weapons or whatever else you craved. It was a small hole in the side of much greater things, filled with the weak, the lowlifes, the scum and whatever else decided to spend the night whiling away their money.

It was into this ever-so-respectable alehouse that the infamous pair arrived, in search of a decent drink.

Pushing their way through the various patrons, the roughly seated themselves at the bar, or attempted to at any rate. A multitude of people ebbed and flowed through the building, some drunk and other ecstatic, all looking to get drunk. A small nod to the bartender, some kind of elephant creature that resembled the large ones from within that council hall, and two bizarrely colored drinks arrived.

The two glasses that slide along the bar top to their standing positions could only be described as colorful.

It took both Gotrek and Felix a moment to consider what the hell they were looking at.

Years of travel, all kinds of foods, and more importantly, drinks, had left the two with a broad if recognizable taste for liquor. Usually, the refined, golden and cold, lightly foamed kind that was so ever popular in the Dwarven holds. Failing that, if it was some kind of booze they'd drunk it before. The sugar substance in Ind, the Elephant's piss of Nippon, the murky black substance of Altdorf's finest, the thick vodka of Kislev, they had tried it all.

Never had a drink that was pink however.

A scowl on his face, Gotrek seized the pair of glasses and downed them both, grimacing all the while. This wasn't improved the moment once he'd finished either of them, but a brief nod at least confirmed they were alcoholic. Another wave to the bartender, and the two began their arduous task of drink their way into a late evening. This wasn't helped by the intrusion of a giant Lizard-like creature a few minutes later, along with a fair number of its horde.

* * *

TowerofHoeth/Magic/Notable;Magicians/Necromancers/ Nagash

Article: Nagash, the First Necromancer.

Nagash was born two thousand years before the time of Sigmar in the mighty civilization known as Nehekhara. His father was _King Khetep_ of the 3rd Dynasty, ruler of Khemri and all Nehekhara. As a young man he joined the Mortuary Cult(a priesthood dedicated to the veneration of the dead and the magical prolonging of life) and became a leading figure in the cult. Nagash was ambitious, and despite rising to the rank of High Priest of Khemri, the cult's highest position, he coveted his father's throne.  
It was only when a group of Dark Elves, whom had washed up on the shore of Nehekhara after a battle with the High Elves, and were brought to Khemri that his quest for immortality proved fruitful. One among their number was a Sorceress, who revealed all her knowledge of Magic to Nagash. From her, he learned of the Realm of Chaos beyond the Chaos Wastes in the north and of the Winds of Magic, and how they could be channeled.

Unlike the divine magic of the priests of Khemri, based on the intercession of gods, Nagash learned of magic that mortals could manipulate for themselves. He learned of Dharand how it could be drawn to a location and condensed inside certain materials. When the sorceress outlived her usefulness, Nagash murdered her companions, defeated her in a magical dual and consumed her soul. He then proceded to enact his plan to put himself on the throne. He brought dozens of weak and dispossed nobles togather and gave them the ability to prolong their life, and in return, they swore to serve him forever. Foremost among them was Arkhan the Black. He became nagashes second in commmand and one of the most ruthless of Nagashes servants.

**For additional data on Nagash's early life, please consult the relevant articles.**  
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**Article: Nagash's modern relevance.**

Nagash is still considered among one of the greatest villains of all history, despite the legislation and acceptation of Necromancy as a viable school of the Altdorf Colleges of Magic. Following his resurrection in the year 1666 P.S, he reputedly acted over the next centuries in the quest to build up a multitude of armies and magical forces in order to retake his home, cow the Vampires back under his magical control and destroy the Empire created by his killer Sigmar HeldenHammer.

Originally acting under the guise of the evil Necromancer Heinrich Kemmler and his undead henchman Krell, Nagash's actions lead to the resurrection of the legendary Mannfred Von Carstien in the year 3089. Finally able to lead his arm in to battle, Nagash's first actions were to order the resurrection of a grand army able to raise the lands of men. Unfortunately, Nagash's actions in building his own forces had not gone unnoticed by the various Vampire covens, who lead a grand arm of their own forces, including a multitude of military forces under the command of the Empire against him. Ultimately, this proved to be folly as Nagash slaughtered them and magically bound the Vampires to his will, creating an even grander army, capable of defeating any nation that stood against him.  
Unfortunately for Nagash and to the benefit of the world, Nagash's reckless use of magic and dominance of the Vampire covens lead to a massive joint effort from the newly formed Alliance against his various bases in the 'Badlands'. On the eve of battle, in which he had spent days raising and fortifying his new army, Mannfred Von Carstien led a revolution against him, having been freed of his bonds by a number of magical incantations weaved by Elven magicians.

As the sun rose on the day of battle, the great armies of the Alliance were created with a sight of both hope and horror.  
The grand necromantic army had been reduced to nothing but cadavers and bones, but at its cost was the death of a massive number of Vampires, with the severely weakened Mannfred Von Carstien having been impaled on a great spire.

It is unknown were Nagash has fled to, with a number of popular rumors even saying he has returned to the Empire under the guise of a teacher at the Universities, while others say he wanders the wastes of Nehekhara, as the Tomb Kings locked him there, forever to be cursed at the sight of their nations rebirth. So far, no-one knows where he is, or when he will strike again.

However, for all his work, Nagash unveiled a great weapon against him, and has lost one of the great sources of his power. With the revival of the Von Carstien's and their attempted subjugation, his actions forced the few remaining members to plea directly before the Alliance members, causing the knowledge of Vampires at a public level to become know, betraying the centuries of secrecy they'd built up around themselves. As such, Vampires, the few that were not reduced to broken souls by Nagash's enslavement, are now commonly know among the Alliance, and ever act in defense against him, now free to operate in public, despite continued disgust at their existence.

To date, the widely accepted leader of Vampires with politics is the now reformed Mannfred Von Carstien, whose defeat at the hands of Nagash and centuries of political knowledge have well equipped him for the multitude of political efforts required to keep Vampires within the Alliance. However, tensions among both him and the Magicians of Hoeth remain high, due to his (dismissed) claims of a magical geas preventing him from doing more than simple politics.

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**CODEX**: Zakera Lake Incident

**NOTE: INCOMPLETE ADDITION**; Help us maintain the integrity of the Codex! Please source your information as you add it!

**NOTE: RECENT ADDITION**; This event occurred with the last month or less, and as such, may be lacking in complete sources and contain unsourced information.

Following the appearance of a currently unverified type of Faster-Than-Light transportation, through the creation of a bizarrely shaped portal of unconfirmed energy. Information received for various Citadel based sensors (both official and unofficial records) currently identifies the portal as an anomaly, as it registered numerous bizarre signals and created various manipulations of natural phenomenon, prompting a wide interest in the event, as many wish to understand what caused such blatant disregard for the universal forces such gravity.

The event occurred at 13 hours central Citadel time, during the eighth semester of an average Citadel year. Originally noted by two C-Sec officers, the anomaly occurred above the Zakera Ward, prompting the Salarian Frigate (Family relation: Linron, 132nd of its class) to move into an interception angle against any possible, unregistered threat to the Citadel. Following the rapid arrival of the unknown space ship, the Salarian frigate was 'clipped' and lost a minor section of its forward bow. Currently, the frigate is undergoing repairs in the Linron owned ship yard within Tayseri Ward.

The unknown spaceship then proceeded to crash land in the Zakera Ward lake, becoming submerged in the water supply for the entire ward section. Numerous concerns were raised over the possible impact this may have on the standards of drinkable water for the entire ward, along with the threat of possible flooding, but thanks to actions undertaken by Keeper units, numerous flood walls were built within an hour of the ships landing.  
Recent interviews with Citadel staff have confirmed that the ward will not be majorly threaten by possible infection from the water source, as the water supply already travels through numerous filtration systems due to the various intoxicants already present.

To date, the ship remains lodged within the lakes water supply, with the majority of the ships mass being submerged beneath the lake. So far, this has not been a major issue to the newly discovered species, as it appears that they are aquatic in nature. So far, the upper exposed levels of the ship have been closed due to a C-Sec presence, in an attempt to ward of any potential scavengers and such. Recently, an issue did arise with the activities of a local Hanar group, whose routine activities take them through the submerged area, causing them to complain to C-Sec about the ships presence.

Also, the ship appears to contain various creatures within its hull, including areas that still maintain oxygenated areas. It is unconfirmed as to the nature, size and ability of these animals, but recent statements from Citadel Security confirm that the creatures are under control by their various handlers. However, another issue has been raised by the numerous aquatic reptiles that are now located around the downed ship.

The staff of the Codex advises that if any come in contact with any unknown creature that is possibly related to the downed ship, it be avoided.

**C-SEC: WARNING**: Be advised, information provided states that the majority of creatures that have possibly escaped are incredibly poisonous, and easily identifiable due to their brightly colored scales. Any unidentified creature of bright coloration is to be avoided, and you are advised to contact C-Sec if encountered. The specific breeds of creature are unknown, but their abilities range from poisonous bight, intense musculature used to crush limbs and spitting of acidic materials.

Please, if any unknown creature is encountered, contact your local C-Sec officers.

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I hope you don't expect me to update this with any kind of frequency.


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